


Just This Once

by Verai



Series: RDR2 tumblr Requests [19]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Angst and Porn, F/M, Spoilers, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 20:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: It’s been 11 months since John left the gang. On a cold winter’s night, Abigail sits alone and cries silently, heartbroken and lonely. In a moment of weakness, she does what she never thought she would do again: seeks the warmth of another man.





	Just This Once

**Author's Note:**

> So I was asked for some Arthur x Abigail smut during that year that John was gone. According to the Red Dead wiki, Arthur and Abigail have a 14 year age gap, making her 19 and Arthur 33 in 1896, which is roughly when John is gone. I saw the whispers of this relationship in game and I think this was the second relationship that was cut from the story. So I’ll explore this what-if through my writing.

Abigail slowly lay Jack down to sleep in her bed, brushing his hair with her tired hand and smiling softly at her baby. She loved her little boy, more than anything. If only… if only John loved him too. If only he loved her enough to stay.

She quietly left the tent and walked to the edge of the nearby stream to take a moment to herself. She had to be realistic. It had been almost a year. John wasn’t coming back. She had fallen for him, loved him hard, perhaps too hard, and now she had lost him. Staring up at the starry sky, she let out a sigh, wrapping her shawl around her tighter against the winter chill. 

She heard the crunch of leaves and twigs under heavy boots and recognized the particular gait of its owner. Turning to him, she attempted to smile, but even she could tell her lips wavered.

“Better get back inside, it’s cold out here.” Arthur looked as if he wanted to say more, but waited for her to respond.

“Just a moment longer. I just need… a moment.”

He took another two steps to stand next to her. “I have some whiskey, if it’ll help.”

Arthur didn’t share his personal stash of whiskey lightly. He knew she was missing John fiercely, and he hated watching the light slowly fade from her eyes over the past few months. Where was that fierce woman who stood up to the world and spat in its face? Seeing her like this did something to his insides that he didn’t want to examine any further. He just wanted her to be happy again, like she was when she… well, when she had started to fall for John. He kicked himself mentally for where his mind had gone.

Abigail nodded. “I’ll take you up on that, Arthur.” She quietly followed him back to his tent, which he had closed up to keep the warmth in as much as possible. He pulled out the bottle from a box underneath his cot and handed it to her.

“Sorry I don’t have no fancy cups or nothin’,” he mumbled.

She took the bottle and took a very hearty swig. “Thank you,” she said, making a face as the alcohol burned her throat all the way down. Handing the bottle back to him, she sat down on his cot and let out another deep sigh. “Can I… can I ask you somethin’?”

He sat next to her and took a drink of whiskey. “Sure,” he said, although a bit hesitantly.

“I miss him. How… how do you cope?”

Arthur let out a deep sigh of his own. “You jus’ hafta take life one day at a time. And if you’re still livin’ the next day, then you got to deal with it then too.”

She looked at him, a sadness filling her eyes. She understood; Mary had left a giant hole in Arthur’s heart. Tilly was irritated whenever her name was brought up, and Hosea would glare at anyone who brought her up in Arthur’s presence. And then losing Eliza and Isaac only tore that hole further.

Placing her hand on his knee, she just nodded. “It… It hurts. Even after all this time.”

Before he could think better of it, Arthur wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling Abigail into his arms for a comforting hug. She felt so small in his embrace, so warm and soft. A protectiveness surged in his heart, and Arthur, unable to stop himself, laid a soft kiss on her temple.

Abigail held her breath. Her heart belonged to John, but her body reacted to the physical comfort that Arthur brought. She leaned into him, remembering the way he had felt beneath her.

Had it only been two years since she had joined the gang? Uncle had introduced her as a working girl, to help with chores and occasionally warm beds to keep morale up amongst the men, in exchange for a safe place to live and food to eat. Most of the men had bedded her; even Arthur had, but only once, after he came back drunk and depressed. He never said why he was so unhappy that night; only that he took her hand, led her to his tent, and asked to have her. He had been so gentle, so giving, and when he was done, he had curled up around her and cradled her close to him as he slept. She had wondered what kind of man he would have been if he hadn’t been in this kind of life. 

Then John started to fall for her, and she for him, and she started doing more chores to make up for her no longer wanting to warm beds, which Dutch and Hosea agreed with. She could say that most of the men she had been with had fucked her, but only two men had made love to her: John… and Arthur.

“Can… can I stay?” she whispered as she looked up at him. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Arthur pulled back and met her eyes, torn between craving the physical intimacy and his own resentment. She loved John, not him. She was just feeling lonely and wanted someone, anyone.

“Just this once. Please, Arthur.”

He couldn’t leave her alone, not when she was looking up at him with a loneliness that mirrored his own. After a few moments, he sighed and nodded.

“Alright, but no kissin’ on the lips. That’s my only rule.”

She nodded, not wanting to question him, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered as she reached up to unbutton his shirt.

“O’course,” Arthur said with a wry smile as he let her remove his clothes, sitting back and taking in her beautiful form as she did the same. Watching the shirt slide off her shoulders, the skirt flutter down from her hips, he felt his blood burn with desire; it had been so long since he’d laid with a woman, and Abigail was certainly a fine specimen. Her skin was soft as he caressed her shoulder and arm, taking her wrist and pulling her close. Grabbing the blanket, he covered them both as he laid down on his back, draping her over his body. She held him close, snuggling against his warmth as he stroked her back, his hands trailing along her skin, giving her goosebumps as she sighed with pleasure.

He trailed kisses on her neck and earlobe as she sat up and straddled him. Cupping her generous bosom, he pinched her nipples just to see her reaction. Abigail bit her lip, controlling her voice as she leaned forward into his touch. She rolled her hips against him, his cock straining to enter her inviting heat.

“Been so long,” he mumbled.

“Me too,” she sighed as she slowly lifted her hips and lowered herself onto his length, reveling in the intimate embrace, of feeling filled up by a man. She had missed this feeling of physical connection, and even though Arthur wasn’t the man she loved, she trusted him with her life. If ever she was in danger, she knew that Arthur was the sort of man who would save her. It was a deep feeling, a different kind of love.

When she was fully seated on his member, Arthur gripped her hips and started to guide her pace. As she started to ride him, he controlled her speed, keeping her slow at first, but as their desire built higher and higher, he couldn’t help his own movements as he moved her faster on his cock.

“I need more,” he murmured before pulling her close and rolling over so she was beneath his body. Lifting his hips, he took her from this new angle, watching her throw her head back and pant. She tried to keep herself quiet, but the strength of his thrusts drew out a small mewl from her, and he quickly covered her mouth with a big hand. 

“Hush now, don’t want anyone knowin’ about this,” he whispered. She nodded in agreement.

He wrapped his other arm around her and buried his face into her neck. Smelling her unique scent, Arthur sucked on her neck and collarbone, losing himself to her lush body, the heat enveloping him. Her muffled moans of pleasure sounded like heaven in his ears. For one swift moment, he wished she was his.

If only. If only Abigail would forget John, as if she could. If only Mary didn’t invade his thoughts, as she too often did.

His mind replaced Abigail’s face with Mary’s for a second too long, and to his deepest shame, he almost shot his spend inside. Pulling out quickly, he buried his moans into her chest as he spent himself on her belly instead.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Arthur mumbled as he collapsed next to her. He trailed his hand down her body until he reached her core, and started to stroke her. “Lemme help you.”

Abigail turned towards Arthur, clinging to his shoulders as he touched her in just the right way, just like he did that one night long ago. She came in his arms, shuddering and biting down on his shoulder to stifle her sounds of release.

Afterwards, they lay together, just breathing deep, Abigail’s head buried in Arthur’s chest, her body tucked against his for warmth.

“Thank you,” Abigail finally whispered.

He nodded, then after a few silent moments, he spoke, almost too low for her to hear. 

“If you ever need me, Abigail, I'll be there. Always.”

***

Arthur awoke to feel wetness on his chest. Looking down, he watched Abigail murmur in her sleep, a few tears sliding down her face.

“John…”

He sighed. Of course. Even though he knew what he got himself into, it still hurt to hear another man’s name on the lips of a woman he just laid with, and his heart burned with even more resentment. That dumb bastard had no idea how lucky he was.

***

In 1907, on a cold winter’s day, John finally, finally, opened Arthur’s journal. Being an idiot, he read the last entry first.

“ _ John, protect  _ _ Abigail _ _ and  _ _ Jack _ .”

He nodded; he could almost hear Arthur in his head saying those words to him. Then he flipped to the beginning of the journal to read from there. So engrossed in his brother’s entries, he didn’t hear Abigail as she sat down on the bed next to him and looked over his shoulder.

"Is that me?" 

John blinked and looked over at her, and then looked down at the page he was reading. "Yeah."

"Arthur… drew me?" 

"And the boy too."

"What does his entry say?" 

John debated lying to her, but that wasn’t his way. Honesty above all else, even if the rest of his morals weren’t as crystal clear. So he took a deep breath, and read it out loud to her. 

He looked up to see Abigail holding her mouth closed, fighting back tears. He put the journal down and held his arms out to her. She fell into his arms, clinging to him tightly as she took shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure. 

"He did a lot for us," John whispered. "I, we, won't ever forget him."

John felt her nodding. He just held Abigail close, feeling her warmth, her softness. He felt incredibly grateful that he was able to live on and be with her, that she still stayed with him after all his mistakes. After a while, a wistful smile spread across his face as he thought back to the past.

Arthur was right; he was the luckiest man alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did this request justice. I really wanted this to be as canon-compliant as possible, because I want to believe that this could totally have happened in game. Anyway, let me know what you think!


End file.
